Just The Same
by SurrealExistence
Summary: AU. Draco meets a bushy haired beauty in London, not knowing she's a witch. When his school heads to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament, he's delighted to learn the truth. But will blood statuses and friends keep the two apart?


**Authors Note:**

 **I found this on my laptop and didn't bother reading it all the way through before posting. Whoops. ;)**

 **Draco doesn't go to Hogwarts, instead he goes to Viktor Krum's school. Hermione goes to Hogwarts. Voldemort died when he tried to kill Harry, so Harry's parents are dead. Hermione and Draco meet, they both think the other is muggle.**

 **Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter is not mine, it belongs to the great and wonderful, J.K. Rowling. I wish I owned it though...**

 **DPOV:**

Draco ran a hand through his silky blond-whitish hair. A frown etched into his handsome, pale face. The sun beat on his back and he sighed. Stupid weather. His mother and father were about, looking for his Durmstrang books and robes. He sincerely wished he went to Hogwarts and not Durmstrang, the only good thing about his school was Viktor Krum. Draco looked around before taking a step into the Leaky Cauldron. He could see the large group of red headed freaks, more commonly known as the Weasels.

Passing them was an easy feat. Draco didn't even bother making eye contact with the group, he just simply strode away. He passed through the Leaky Cauldron and sighed. He found his parents in Flourish and Blotts, looking through a variety of intellectual books. He rolled his eyes and walked over to his parents. He tapped his mother's shoulder.

"Mum?" he drawled, waiting for her attention. He received it rather quickly. turned sharply and her eyes settled on her sons face.

"Yes darling? Do you need anything?" she asked. Draco nodded.

"Yes. Mother? I'm leaving to go meet up with Crabbe and Goyle before heading to the Manor. Is that alright?"

Narcissa nodded, knowing perfectly well that he'd go anyway.

"Be careful, don't talk to the muggles!" she whisper shouted into her son's ear. She fixed his hair before leaning down to give him a quick peck on the cheek. She sighed and pushed him out the door after slipping a handful of Galleons into his pale hands.

"Don't take your robes with you," she said. With a simple wave of her wand, Draco's robes disappeared and he was left in jeans and a short sleeved shirt. He nodded to his mother and walked off.

He hadn't planned on finding Crabbe and Goyle. He just wanted an excuse to get out of Diagon Alley, even if it meant going into Muggle London. He pulled out his wand and tapped the right brick, before slipping out of Diagon Alley and into London.

Muggle London was the –for lack of better word- opposite of Wizard London. But that was expected. There were lots of muggles, most of them dressed in his type of attire. It disgusted him. He felt like one of them, pathetic and unimportant. He'd give the muggles one thing though; they knew how to avoid heat without magic. On a day this hot, he'd have placed a cooling spell on himself. Muggles couldn't, but they seemed perfectly fine without the spell. Most likely because of those A.C. things.

He was just passing a bar when a group of girls, all of them wearing rather unnerving dresses, passed him. One of them winked at him and smiled perkily. Draco could feel his ego boost just a tiny bit. It didn't matter that they were slutty Muggle girls, they were still hot. Any flirty hot girl was good enough for Draco. Not for long term thing, maybe a simple fling.

"It's pathetic really. All they have to do is walk around, in their revealing dresses and they get all the attention they want. All the males in London have the IQ of a small bit of plankton. It drives me up the wall. Just yesterday, I heard Jake Willingfan say he wanted to shag Dorothy Moray in his kitchen! Can you believe that?" a voice chattered behind Draco. He turned sharply, feeling rather insulted but the comment.

The speaker was a bushy haired girl. She seemed roughly the age of Draco. She walked past Draco with a friend lagging behind. Draco, deciding to defend his gender, ran after the two girls. They walked up to a bus stop and continued to speak. Draco walked up to them and tapped the ginger haired girl.

"Yes, can I help you?" she asked. Draco nodded.

"Yes, your perspective on London men is rather infuriating. What makes you think all men have the IQ of plankton?" he asked sullenly. The girl looked rather surprised, before replying.

"Men only seem to care about looks rather than personality. They only care about the bright and obvious. They only care about the exterior of a girl, instead of the interior. If the girl is pretty but shallow, it doesn't matter. But if she's not pretty but deep, with an actual personality, she's not worth dating," the girl replied, huffing.

Draco rolled his eyes. This girl was so unimaginative. Of course men liked pretty woman, why wouldn't they? What was not to like? You wouldn't want to date an ugly troll, now would you? He felt like voicing this predicament.

"Would you date an unbelievably ugly guy? With warts and big eyes. You wouldn't want to date anybody revolting. Would you?" he asked, feeling smug at the look on her face. She quickly recovered.

"You are all the same. Thinking a person's looks is all there is to them. Just shows how shallow males are," she turned to the girl next to her, "Mary? Let's go,"

Angrily, Draco raced after them.

"That's not true! Males are intelligent. They—I mean _we_ are patient, too. I managed to hold a conversation with you, didn't I?"

The girl laughed.

"Just because you managed to hold a conversation doesn't mean you are intelligent. Besides, the conversation was about the dignity of your gender!" she said. Draco felt baffled. And embarrassed.

"I can prove you wrong!" he shouted.

"Really? You don't even know my name!"

"You don't know mine!" he retorted. The girl looked momentarily taken back. He grinned. A smirk, proud and victorious, slipped onto his features. He could hear the bushy haired girl's friend, take in a breath. Good, he had that effect on ladies.

"Fine then. My name is Hermione Granger. This," she gestured to her friend, "is Marilyn Katrina. You are?" she prompted.

"Draco Malfoy," he replied cockily. Draco waited for the girl to suck in a breath, in some form of recognition. To act as if she was surprised to know him. But then he realised she was a muggle. And a muggle wouldn't know who Lucius Malfoy was. Nor who his offspring was. A slight bit of disappointment nestled into the bottom of his stomach. He'd forgotten that the girl was a muggle.

Granger nodded briskly. She continued to look at him expectantly. Draco, feeling self-conscious looked around. Why was she staring at him so hard? Was there something wrong? Did she know him? Had he insulted her, without realizing?

"Well...?" she asked. Draco looked at her, dumbfounded. What in Merlin was she going on about? Well what?

"What?" he asked intelligently. He was starting to hate the way she was looking at him. Victoriously. It was creeping him out.

"How are you going to prove it? Judging by the conversation we just had, I'd have to say. You seem to have less IQ than a piece of seaweed. And seaweed doesn't have an IQ!" she exclaimed happily. Draco flushed, feeling highly embarrassed. Marilyn giggled.

"Go on a date ... with me. I'll prove to you I'm not stupid. Nor are males. Some males are, but hey. You can't control everybody can you? I mean, you obviously can't control how bushy your hair is? Or how long your teeth are? Can you?" he said. He realised a moment too late how insulting that comment was. Granger looked highly offended.

"Oh, crap. I'm sorry, that came out wrong! Wait!" he shouted, as she spun on her heel and stalked away.

"Wait! I'm sorry! Wait—Granger!" he ran after and grabbed her elbow. He pulled on it and she turned to look up at him. He was surprised to see her eyes shining with unshed tears. Guilt took over his features.

"You're all the same. Pathetic. You don't care how much you hurt people, do you? None of that matters. I've always hated people like you. Snarky, rude, unobservant. Get a life Malfoy. I hope you find a girl that fulfills your shallow and pointless wishes," she stormed off. But then halted. She turned to look at him. "For a moment, I thought you were normal. Had an actual intelligence. But, you're just like the rest!" Then Hermione Granger stormed off.

Her friend, Marilyn Katrina, walked over to Draco with a smirk. She slipped a piece of paper into his hand. "I'm still on board!" she whispered. Leaning up, she placed a sneaky kiss on his cheek. Marilyn stepped back and smiled. She flipped her sunshine hair before racing after Granger. Draco looked down at the slip of paper in his fingers. They read, in fancy letters, _Marilyn Katrina_ : _Call me!_ Her number was written underneath, in equally styled handwriting. Draco smirked. Even when he was losing an argument, he still managed to charm the ladies.

Draco waltzed off. Confidently, he walked over to a fountain and sat down on the rusty bench. He looked down at the slip of paper, turning it over in his nimble, long and slender fingers. Draco stretched and yawned, but he still couldn't shake off the guilt he felt. It was pointless really; he'd never see her again. The worst part was she was a muggle! He shouldn't feel guilty about hurting a muggle's feelings. They didn't matter. He was Draco Malfoy! The son of an extremely important man. He was rich, handsome and athletic! What more could anyone want? Then why in bloody hell, did he feel so damn bad? It _just wasn't right!_

Dinner at the Manor was quiet that day. Lucius and Narcissa spent the entire time, happily chatting about Lucius's promotion. Both in ranking and payment. Draco, however, spent the time silently pondering why Granger was still etched into his brain. He felt primitive, like a muggle. He didn't know anything about her. Not her address, age, or even school. He only knew the phone number of her friend. The only reason he even knew telephones existed was because of his mandatory Muggle Studies class. It was a mandatory class in his school.

After being excused for dinner, he made his way up to his room. He was enjoying the silence of his room. Quiet and peaceful. The silence was shattered when his owl began to peck against the window. He walked over to the window and propped it open. The eagle owl flew in and perched on its perch after throwing the letter down. Draco opened up the roll of parchment.

The letter was from his friend, Marcus Flint.

 _Draco,_

 _Father has just told me about the Tournament going on at Hogwarts this year! Durmstrang students are coming too! Pansy and her friends are waiting for Krum to arrive at the school. I think it's funny; they're scampering over his feet. Just watch, they'll be after you too! They know what you look like and Pansy's been driving me nuts, trying to figure out where you live. Creepy, I know! Anyway, how's your summer been?_

 _School's starting in a month, unbelievable! Potter and Weasley have been having the time of their lives. Last year..._

The letter went on; Flint continued to update Draco on what was happening with the great Harry Potter and his sidekick, Ron Weasley. Draco had started to build a hatred for Potter, he didn't really know why. He just didn't like the way people cared about Potter. They treated him like a hero. He didn't really do anything; just get survived a killing curse. No big feat...

Yeah right. The Dark Lord perished because of little Potter. It drove Draco mad, Potter hadn't really done anything. And, according to Dumbledore, it had been Potter's _mother_ that had saved him. Her love, actually, the irony was killing him. Sadly for Draco, no matter what he did, he still could never feel as popular as Potter was. At Durmstrang, it was always about Viktor Krum. Krum this, Krum that! Unbelievable, everybody got attention except him.

But Draco didn't really care. To be frank, he had his group. His little fan club, his group of girls that swooned over him. But none of them had captured his attention like Hermione Granger had. Why? Why did this plain little muggle girl, captivate him so much? Life didn't make much sense right now. As Draco slipped into his bed and sighed. His eyes slid shut and his mind ran off. Draco fell asleep that night dreaming of impressing a bushy haired girl. In his dream she was a witch. And she was Pure blooded.

Draco woke up the next day and headed straight to the place he'd first seen that girl. He couldn't find her anywhere. She wasn't at the bus stop, or at the bar he'd seen the girls, not at a small cafe next to the bar. Nowhere. It was like she'd vanished. Just disappeared of the face of the air. He wanted to claim temporary insanity, God, the way he's been looking for her. Like some sort of stalker.

Draco went the next day, and the day after that. He looked for her every day, over the course of the week. Today was Friday, officially six days since he'd seen Granger. And six days since his ego had been punched and deflated. Laughter bubbled up inside him. And he growled at a wall. Screw this. Granger could die. He didn't damn care anymore. Grabbing his wand and bag, he walked over to the bricks that held the entrance to Diagon Alley. Tapping them with his wand, he walked into Diagon Alley.

Flourish and Blotts was full today. Draco decided to take a peek. He slipped into the packed store and shoved his way into the front, accidentally crashing into Ginny Weasley. He glared at her angrily.

"Why so eager Weaslette? Don't you have enough money to walk properly?" he taunted. The girl's eyes angered, and her face became as red as her hair. She poked him in the chest angrily.

"What the hell Malfoy? My family...!" she was about to yell something, when she was interrupted by the Dynamic Duo. Weasley and Potter and walked over. When they saw Malfoy, their faces contorted with rage.

"Why the hell are you hitting on my sister? Do you fancy her? I'm sorry Malfoy, but Death Eaters aren't welcome in the family!" Weasley bellowed. Draco grimaced. Fancying the Weasley? He'd rather marry the muggle, Granger.

"Hah! As if anyone will marry her. Your family won't even be able to afford the wedding!"

Weasley raced over, attempting to punch Malfoy in the face. Potter and Weaslette grabbed him by the shoulders, to prevent him from attacking. With a flash, Draco pulled out his wand and prepared himself.

"Is that all you got Weasley? Punches? Don't you know any spells? So muggle like. Is it true in your second year you used your father's bewitched car to get to school? Couldn't you afford the train? I heard it was free!" Draco snapped back. If possible the Weasley's faces got even redder. With a confident smirk, Draco stalked off.

He never did find out why Flourish was so packed that day. But he didn't really care. As he slipped his hands into his jean pockets, he realised that he had the slip of paper with Marilyn's number. Hope filled is bored expression. He raced over to a muggle telephone booth. Pulling out his wand, he tapped the payment box. As is on cue, the phone dialed Marilyn's number. She picked up on the first ring.

"Hey! This is Marilyn! Who's speaking?" her perky voice called. Draco rolled his eyes at her voice.

"This is Draco Malfoy. I wanted to ask is you—"

"Oh hi! Draco! Sure, I'll go on a date with you! I'd love to! When are you picking me up?" she asked. Draco face palmed. Damn this girl.

"Sorry, I wanted to you know, get a tour of the town. I'm only here for a couple of days. Could you and Hermione show me around? I also wanted to apologize to her. Can you?" he asked, tentatively. There was silence on Marilyn's part.

"Sure. Hermione and I'll meet you at ... the Lightheaded Pub. That's the one where the girls came out from. I'll call Herms; um... do you want her number?"

Draco grinned like a madman.

"That'd be great!" After collecting Granger's number, and hanging up, he strode over to the pub. But not after a quick brush up on his looks. He was seriously regretting saying he didn't know London well. Now he would end up spending the entire day being toured around a place he knew very well. But, then again, he knew Wizarding London. He'd never actually been properly introduced to Muggle London.

"Hi!" an over ecstatic voice yelled. Draco turned around and saw Marilyn, with a Hermione lagging behind. He laughed at the sight and waved them over. Marilyn was wearing a loose top with shorts. Granger simply wore a t-shirt and jeans.

Marilyn smiled sweetly and him while Granger sent him a death glare. He shrugged his shoulders and followed behind them. Marilyn and Granger began to show him the finer points in Muggle London. They started off with the pub. It was a very classy pub, high ceilings and tall pillars. Marble counters and maple wood floors furnished with expensive looking items. And the drinks, they looked classy. Something like what his Father might drink on the occasion.

"This place...it's ..." he broke off, unsure of what to say. Granger seemed to find this funny. Nonetheless she finished the sentence for him.

"Classier than it looks? Yes, I know," she said in a clipped tone. Marilyn grabbed his arm and hauled him out of the pub. Granger lay back, simply watching with an unreadable expression on her face. Draco continued to be lead around London, listening to Marilyn rambling about things he couldn't care less about.

They stopped in front of a majestic fountain. Tall and especially endearing. He felt the most unbelievable urge to reach out and touch the marble figure shooting water out. Granger pulled out a couple of coins from her purse and handed one to him. Marilyn was looking at her coin intently, but he had felt no urge to look at his. Why did he care what a muggle coin looked like? It didn't matter to him. Granger threw her coin in and closed her eyes briefly before smiling. Marilyn did the same.

They began chattering eagerly. He walked over to them and cleared his throat.

"Thanks. For leading me around. It was great. Is that all there is to London?" he asked. Granger shook her head, her bushy curls flying everywhere. Draco bit back a burst of laughter, knowing full well, how touchy she was about her strands of hair.

"No, actually, there is a lot more to London than there looks. Do you want to come tomorrow?" she said. Marilyn looked taken back. Draco wondered why.

"Sure, I'll come. Who's going to be there?" he drawled. Marilyn answered.

"Just Hermione. I have work tomorrow." She said. Draco grinned.

"Not a problem. I'll meet you in front of the pub, Granger?" he asked. She nodded briskly.

"See you later..." she pursued her lips, "Malfoy. Come on Marilyn." She dragged Marilyn away. Her friend shouted goodbye. Draco grinned and watched the two girls walk off confidently. Smirking to himself, he walked off. His fingers in his pocket, just grazing the coin Granger had given him. Had he actually looked at the coin, he'd have noticed it wasn't a muggle coin. In fact, in his wallet at home, he had tons more like it. He also had some in his other pocket.

The coin? It was a silver sickle.


End file.
